Читать книгу Under the Tiger's Claws; Or, A Struggle for the Right онлайн

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Flood stood as motionless as a man of marble, and nearly as pale; yet his grave, strong face never once changed in a way to betray his secret feelings.

“You feel, then, that you have been deceived?” said he inquiringly, with a peculiarly deep yet penetrating voice, then imbued with kindliness.

“Dreadfully deceived,” replied the rector sadly. “Of my daughter, and the love for her you have just expressed, I cannot now speak.”

“Good God!” muttered Nick, under his breath. “Flood is in love with the girl here.”

“Of my son Harry,” continued the rector, “who of late has been much absent from me while in college—ah, it breaks my heart, as it would that of his loving sister, to know that he places among his friends a man of your calling.”

“This is the deception to which you refer, Doctor Royal?”

“To what else, sir? I cannot forget that it was my dear boy who brought you here, and only to-day, when I had begun to regard you with almost brotherly affection, have you voluntarily told me the truth. You were represented to me to be in the ivory business. Alas! I now can see the significance of that. But I had all faith in my son, and looked for no such duplicity.”